Late Nights
by CircleSky
Summary: Rory's got big plans. She can't wait to share them with Jess. Stand-alone story. Part 2 in the Little Visit storyverse. Season 5 AU. Rated M for some sexual content in a later chapter.
1. Friday Evening

**AN: Ever since I posted my story,** ** _Little Visit_** **, fourteen years ago, and got such favourable reviews, I've had four sequels to this universe kicking around in my head and partially written. (I can't believe it's really been that long!) I held back posting any of these stories, however, because I'm a perfectionist to a fault and they "just weren't ready." Well, this past weekend I reread** ** _Little Visit_** **. Right there in its first chapter were** ** _two_** **typos I had posted for all the world to see! (I really should have caught them! Egad!) Besides that, I was decidedly ho-hum reading** ** _Little Visit_** **this time around. Parts I loved; parts I didn't. Anyway, then I reread the first two chapters of this story,** ** _Late Nights_** **, and decided that, incomplete though the story may be, it was better than its predecessor and I wanted to share it with you. So here is the first chapter! You can read** ** _Little Visit_** **, if you want, for the back-story to this alternate universe, however, this story should stand by itself. This story is rated M for content. The other stories in the eventual series will not be rated so restrictively.**

 **I don't own these characters, I just love them! Also, I mean no disrespect to the memory of Gary Coleman or to his family.**

FRIDAY EVENING

An excited Rory padded down the hallway of her New Haven apartment building, her boots making the familiar thumping sound that echoed like sonar as she neared number 304. She smiled as her heart executed a little flip-flop. Within just a couple of days, or even in as little as a few hours, her future could be forever changed.

It had started a day like any other, she thought, but then Professor LaFavre spoke with her after class, and now the day brimmed with possibility! She couldn't wait to share the news with Jess. He would be arriving today for another visit, and she just couldn't wait!

Rory pulled one mitten off with her teeth and fumbled in her coat pocket for her keys. While, in her other hand, she balanced a bag of books and a Venti coffee, as she did most every day, Rory stuck her key in the lock and jiggled it. As usual the lock resisted her, but today it didn't dampen her spirit.

Before she could win her struggle with the lock, however, the door swung open from the inside, ripping the keys from her hand and leaving them dangling. She grabbed the mitt from her teeth. "Jess!" she cried, happily surprised. "You're here early!"

"No," he replied calmly. "I caught the same bus I always do." She stuffed the loose mitt in her pocket and switched her coffee to her free hand so he could whisk the heavy book bag from her wrist.

Rory looked down at her watch. It was 6:00. "Oh!" she exclaimed, apologetic. "I'm late!"

"Always worth the wait." Jess smirked wryly, leaning in to kiss her lips easily. Then he stepped back into her apartment and let her pass through. Jess retrieved her key-chain from the lock before he closed the door.

"Cheesy, Jess. So cheesy." But though her statement admonished him, she was secretly pleased.

"I know. But admit it. Girls love cheese."

After Rory set her coffee cup on the counter beside the door, she quickly peeled her hat from her head and stuffed it, along with her other mitt, into her coat pockets. "I love _you_. Are you cheese?"

"I'm no Kraft product but I have my moments."

"Theirs _is_ the cheesiest," she mock-consoled playfully while setting about unbuttoning her coat.

"It does set a high bar," he agreed.

As Rory finally freed her body of its winter encumbrances – hanging her coat on the hook and kicking her boots off – Jess stepped closer. Her gaze was drawn to the tempting mess of waves and curls set dashingly at the top of his head. She smiled. No one could modernize the pompadour like Jess could. "You're all punked out today."

"Mmm. You like it?"

Rory ran her fingers through the faintly waxy waves above his ear towards the delicate fronds at the nape of his warm neck, as Jess earnestly gathered her up into his arms at last. "Mmm-hmmm…" Their next kiss was warmer and slightly searching and it left her breathless and so happy to be in his arms again after their week-long separation.

"So what has you so distracted that you lose track of time and forget that your boyfriend is coming to visit?" he asked.

"I didn't forget," she insisted, though momentarily at a loss. For a few soulful beats of her heart, her distraction was all Jess. It took her a minute or two to even think of her good news and then a minute more to truly care about it. But when she did, and her excitement for it returned, she smiled and asked, "You remember that internship that I told you about?"

When Jess indicated his agreement, she went on. "The Selection Committee has narrowed their choices down to 5 possibilities. Guess who made their short list?"

"Gary Coleman?" he teased, while expertly sprinkling a few more welcome kisses along her jawbone.

"No," she chided, amused. "Me."

"What? Was Gary already busy?"

"Not since 1986."

"Needs a better agent."

Rory giggled breathily, enjoying the tender tickle of Jess's trespass along her jaw. Then the kisses slowed to a stop and Jess softly groaned against her neck, as though coming to grips with his own desire. It was a sexy, wistful sound which aroused her more than she cared to admit.

"You hungry?" he asked. "I brought Chinese food." He held her still, though at a slight distance so he could observe her face.

Though she longed to pull his body against hers again, at the mention of food her mouth instantly watered. "I'm starved," she admitted. "The only thing I had all afternoon was a little bag of Cheetos which I snuck into the library and wolfed down in between Kierkegaard and Fallaci."

Jess nodded conspiratorially. "You literally ate while hiding behind the books, didn't you?"

"It's against the rules to bring food into the library," she explained, not for the first time.

"So you've said. And yet you did it anyway?" Jess tisk-tisked her.

"Yes."

"You really _are_ a rebel, aren't you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Not when compared to certain other people in this relationship, but I hold my own."

"I'll hold yours for you…" He tilted his head with a smirk. "If you like."

"Dirty!" she chimed in, giggling, as she held him in her arms and the quality and tone of his back melted her hands in more ways than one.

"Huh. I'll have to bathe you later."

"Oooh," she joked, and blushed at the idea. They'd never done that before.

"Seriously," he said, not seriously at all. "I want to help. Let me get that for you."

"Well aren't you a sexy boy scout?"

"I could get my Tongue Bath badge at camp on Monday. If only I could lend someone a hand."

"Or a tongue."

He rumbled appreciatively, with a twinkle in his eyes. Then Jess visibly reined in his playful flirtations and grew sincere. "I'm happy for you," he said simply, gulping. "About the short list, I mean."

"Thanks." She smiled warmly.

Jess cleared his throat and released her from his arms. "Well as far as this food is concerned, you're lucky you got here when you did. I was just about to put it in the fridge. In a few minutes, it would've congealed into one solid mass, but as for right now, it should still be appealing enough to eat."

Jess stepped around the counter into the tiny kitchenette and began pulling cartons out of a brown paper bag. "You done your homework for the weekend?" he asked calmly without a hint of expectation in his voice. His question sparked a peal of laughter.

"Are you kidding?" Rory asked in disbelief as she pulled a couple plates off her cupboard shelf. Rory was taking so many courses her head spun, and each class demanded a lot of her free time. "When do I ever _not_ bring homework home? I've got at least a few hours' worth to do." Catching the smile on his lips, she amended, "Oh. You are kidding."

Jess dished out one of the cartons and Rory opened another. The contents were still steamy and she gathered Jess had only arrived a short time before her.

"My mistake," he said. "You know, if you're not careful you'll tarnish your bad-girl reputation. You're such a closet keener."

Rory, also dishing, stopped what she was doing and slowly turned to look at his animated face. Jess was casually kissing _Sweet and Sour_ sauce off his thumb and his dancing, playful eyes were focused on her.

"That's not an insult, you know."

"It wasn't meant to be," he said, smiling. "I don't understand your predisposition, but I find it _fascinating_." He turned back to the cartons and she did the same.

When their plates were full, Jess followed Rory into the living room, which, really, was only distinguishable from the rest of the one-room apartment by the fact that the couch was located there and the counter-top wasn't. And even that distinction was impermanent as, at night, the couch folded out flat and the living room became her bedroom. They set their plates on the living room coffee table and sat down on the floor, side by side.

"Is it boring for you to come all this way just to watch me study? Be honest." Since they'd begun their relationship a few months before, Jess had spent many a weekend holed up in her tiny apartment, firmly planted on her couch.

"I'm not here just watching you study. I've got my Tobias Wolff."

"Wolff this week." She nodded. " _Old School_?"

"Yeah."

"Which you've read, like, a million times..."

"Yeah and if I were at home, I'd be reading it again anyway. May as well do it here."

"Right." Rory wasn't entirely convinced.

"I look forward to reading on my days off. Sue me."

"Yeah…" Rory considered his statement and concurred. He'd never complained once about their pattern; the voracity with which he read was truly impressive. Finally she accepted this, as it occurred to her that there'd been a number of times when he'd arrived and practically gone straight to his latest read, leaving her little choice but to crack her own books. "OK."

"Besides, I love our study breaks." With a feather-light touch that contradicted the crackling heat in his eyes, Jess brushed a strand of her shoulder length hair behind her ear and, his fingers nestling into the nape of her neck, eased her head towards him. He leaned forward and kissed her temple.

Rory demurely purred, "As do I."

"Never learned me so much about anatomy!"

Rory smiled, thinking of their 'study breaks'. They'd come a long way from their first shy encounter, the weekend after they'd crossed the threshold from being just friends to becoming a couple. In the months since then, Jess had shown her a desire within herself that transcended self-consciousness. "It may well be my favourite class."

"Agreed."

Jess turned to the plate in front of him and speared some _Moo Goo Gai Pan_. "Not sure I'm gonna pass though," he said, as though offhandedly. The breath caught in her throat as he tried a new tactic in their verbal adventure. "I'm pretty sure I'm gonna have to take this class again. _Take_ it over and _over_ again," he teased in a quiet voice.

She smiled, open-mouthed, at his audaciousness, until Jess muttered, "What no 'dirty'? That comment deserved a 'dirty'."

Rory's heart throbbed a mile a minute. If only he knew how much she thought about it. She was so beyond _dirty._ When she caught her breath, she whispered, "Maybe you'd benefit from a tutor."

"Only if it's you, Teach."

"'Teach'," she repeated softly, as warm feelings of nostalgia suddenly swirled through her. "You haven't called me that since the car accident that broke my wrist."

Jess shook his head wryly. "And the mood is effectively killed."

"Sorry," she said sheepishly, knowing she'd digressed from the conversation he'd led into a territory that made him uncomfortable. But what he didn't realize was that, for her, the digression was just as amorous as their intimate allusions.

"You felt the mood just now, right? I mean, I was there. I thought you were there," he teased.

"I was there."

"With your come-hither eyes and licking of lips…"

Rory smiled. "I worded that wrong. I meant since the night I _did_ tutor you. I only mentioned the accident because it was the most specific descriptor of that night but the accident really wasn't the defining moment."

The look he gave her was mildly askant. "Still killed the mood."

She sighed, aggravated. "I'm sorry I mentioned it! For the twentieth time, Jess, the car accident wasn't your fault and I didn't mean to sound like I was blaming you. It was just that word… Teach. It made me think of that night. I was just remembering our history."

"Oh?"

"You know it's been two and half years since then? Almost three."

Lowering his fork to his plate, he turned to face her, propping his elbow on the couch cushion behind them and draping his brow on his knuckles. With studied allure, yet a demeanour fluent in sincerity, he spoke, "You and I had history back then?"

"Yeah," she ducked under his gaze and dug into her _Sweet and Sour Pork_.

"I could've sworn you'd said we were just friends back then. I remember it distinctly. Like a Chatty-Cathy doll with the same platonic phrase stuck on repeat."

"I had at least one other phrase in my repertoire that night. You may recall, I was the one who said to turn right."

"And look what that got us: your broken wrist and my eviction. I'd wished we'd just gone back to studying."

"But it's all the more proof that we have a history."

"Explain."

Rory took a deep breath. "You excited me even then. I couldn't wait to see what would happen next. And even though the thing that happened next really sucked, when it happened – when we had the car accident – I got to see you in a whole different light."

Jess was watching her closely and she struggled slightly to go on. "It– it was pretty obvious that you cared, with the way you got me to the hospital and called the tow-truck and stayed with me until I phoned my mom. I wanted you to stay and you wanted to be there. That proves there was something between us, I think. Then, the biggest proof of all was how I felt when I found out you'd left town."

"And how was that?"

"Just really, really sad that you'd gone."

Jess caught her eyes in a laden gaze. They remained that way for a while before he nodded.

"Anyway, that night… was really confusing to a girl who thought she just wanted to be friends."

"I see."

"So you see, I wasn't trying to kill the mood. I was just thinking about… how much more than superficial this is. It's mood-enhancing for me."

"Strange things turn you on," he joked wryly.

"Yes. Yes, you do," she volleyed, mussing up further his bed-head hair.

Jess smiled and looked down at his plate, the perfect picture of boyish delight.

After a moment he asked, "So what do you want to do tonight? Go to a movie? There's nothing good playing this week; we can make out in the back."

She laughed. "Sounds great, but perhaps not."

"In the front then? Well OK, Rory, if you insist."

"Exhibitionist much?"

"The people did pay to see a show."

"And a show they'd get!"

"Wouldn't want to disappoint them."

"Actually, I'm expecting a phone call from Professor LaFavre, about the internship."

"He can leave a message, can't he?"

"Yeah, but I'd rather talk to him personally. How about we just make out here?"

"Even better."

 **AN: Please review! I'd really appreciate it!**


	2. Saturday Morning

_**AN: So, at the end of this chapter, I'm going to ask you to review. I hope you will consider doing just that. Please? Pretty please? :D**_

SATURDAY MORNING

Outside the window, it looked so cold. The sun was dim through a mess of hazy clouds, but enough soothing tendrils of light managed to stream in the window to alight on the two lovers. They'd had a late night of steamy kisses, tender caresses and searching hands. Rory felt warm all over, to be nestled under the covers, alongside Jess's attentive body. _Cold bad,_ she thought, _warm good._

"So we're gonna stay in all weekend, waiting for this guy to call?" Jess queried.

"Yeah?"

"Hmm," he rumbled. "I almost don't mind." Jess leaned forward to kiss her and she accepted him into her arms, ready for _Round Two_. Then, to Rory's surprise, he threw off the blankets and attempted to get out of bed. Rory pulled him back into the safety of their cocoon.

"Where are you going?"

"To get supplies."

"Supplies?"

"Yeah. As usual, your cupboards are as bare as Doose's shelves after double-coupon day. If we're gonna stay here all weekend, we're gonna need something to eat."

"Oh right. Very Paleolithic," she teased.

"Huh?"

"My little hunter-gatherer."

Jess rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'm such a provider. The next time we go out for supper, _you're_ buying." He gave her another peck on the lips and slipped out of her arms and out of the bed.

Rory lay back in bed as Jess found his way across the narrow living space and tucked himself into the bathroom. Rory caught snippets of his routine, through the door, slightly ajar. She smiled as she watched him toss a little water through his hair, his brow furrowed like a true artist—and then a little extra water directly onto one rebellious, sleep-induced curl. A douse of gel, spot-treated, fixed it for sure.

Today he'd chosen a simple tan-grey, long-sleeve shirt and Rory had unabashedly devoured the sight of him pulling it down over his head, and over his torso, towards the waistband of his low-slung—but not obnoxiously low—distressed blue jeans. Afterward, though the shirt now covered him, it did little to hide his trim abdomen. Near-fully put together now, Rory thought he was a man made for sex, and yet with feet dressed only in cozy socks, he still retained an innocent, boyish charm.

When Jess appeared beside the bed again to grab his watch from the computer desk, his cheeks freshly scrubbed and the sleep washed away, Rory's eyes became caught up again in the curls and twists of a delicious fringe of hair. Girls far and wide dreamed of touching tresses like those, she knew, and Rory was no exception. She revelled in the knowledge that, where Jess was concerned, she alone could.

"What are you smiling about?" he asked, his wristwatch forgotten.

"Mmm, good dream," Rory replied. "But it's a secret that only I can know."

"Oh yeah?" Jess smiled as he leaned down over the bed. His hands, placed to either side of her shoulders, brought his daring eyes to fill her frame of view. "That's funny, because I had a dream too. But I'll gladly share it."

"Do tell." Her breath caught as his teasing tone turned languid.

"It was a dream… about a serious girl with striking, blue eyes and brunette hair. I've caught her in a rare moment of abandon… and her cheeks have flushed this beautiful… tantalizing pink. Her hair is a tangle of ribbons and is tossed back… strewn against a pillow…" Jess smiled. "And she's biting her lower lip, pretending she's completely innocent, but she and I both know… she's not entirely."

Jess ran a finger through Rory's hair, slowly tracing the lengths of its strands across the pillow, as his earnest voice continued and her pulse quickened, "Her eyes are heavy-lidded… remarkably like yours are now… but she's watching me, watching my every move, reading me… And she knows me completely… And I think maybe she's a Siren, and I'm about to be smashed against the rocks… but I simply don't care. I can't not be with her… and give her everything she's wanting..." His eyes traced the line of her shoulder.

"Stop," Rory interrupted breathlessly, not sure what it was she was asking him to stop: his seductive storytelling or her own mind picturing everything he said, and more, in exquisite detail.

Momentarily surprised, Jess took a steadying breath of his own, his arms once again straddling her shoulders. They shared a long, silent gaze. "I know... May," Jess replied with a certain degree of understanding, without any impatience.

"May," she agreed.

"And now, the crash." Jess's sincere smile calmed her.

"It's a real nautical disaster," she confirmed, following his train of thought.

"I'll be back," he said, before kissing her lightly, grabbing his watch finally, and collecting his boots, jacket, wallet and keys. Rory sat up in bed. The look he gave her, over his shoulder ere he stepped outside the door of her apartment, spoke of respect, subtle disappointment and a wry recognition of their shared plan to only allow their mutual desire a certain length of leash.

Once he'd gone, Rory flopped back against the pillow. Grabbing the other pillow, she covered her face, meaning to smother a scream of frustration that boiled up inside her, but which never materialized.

She and Jess, in the months that they'd been together as a couple, had delighted in each other, exploring delicious twists and turns as they happened upon them, whilst following an implicit path. It was a path she very much enjoyed travelling, the journey of it being every bit as wonderful and erotic and exciting as was the promise of the eventual destination: sex with Jess. As of yet, however, that was a fork in the road beyond which she had been willing to venture.

Every passionate touch and soulful caress brought her closer to giving in to her own temptations, however. Surprisingly, platonic events often proved to be the most powerful. The dinners they'd spent with Lorelai, with Luke, and very _—very_ —occasionally with her grandparents, where Jess's predilection for literary debate easily engaged her grandfather; the study session she'd shared with Jess in her favourite library when, in plain sight, he'd hidden her pen and, with a twinkle in his eyes, fervently denied doing so; quiet conversations; even moments when Jess simply teased her mercilessly; _especially_ moments when she'd teased him back—they all served to heighten her desire of him.

The day they'd taken a picnic to the countryside and sat together, munching and reading their books under a tree—his a novel, hers a collection of short stories—with the verbal sparring that had ensued as the daylight turned an orange gold… especially that day had brought her tantalizingly close.

But still she held back. What did sex mean to her? How would Jess react afterward, especially if she became pregnant? How would she react? With every question, she'd freaked out a little bit more, until, during one vague conversation they'd had about sex, she'd declared to Jess that the eventuality should wait at least until spring. The end of May, to be specific, when the essays and exams would be behind her for another year and she would have more time to deal with it. It was as if she'd made a decision, but in reality, she'd put off deciding.

Through all this, Jess had been wonderful. Indeed, she knew he savoured every stage of their journey also and her urgency to delay had never been a rift between them, rather it had always served to make them more companionable, to allow them the opportunity to share a precious secret.

Her only hint of frustration on his part had come a few weeks ago. She had undressed him that day, not for the first time, and he her. Jess, with lips that had pleased her in countless ways, had laid her willingly against the couch, and rested himself lightly atop. Rory, her mind spinning, had run her hands down the length of his torso and then guided his hips against her thigh. His guttural response had caused the hair on her arms to prickle upright, due to equal parts of excitement and fear. Stretching out together when they were fully clothed was one thing, but doing so in that state of undress had suddenly seemed to Rory entirely too dangerous, especially once her self-control had begun to unravel.

When, as the kisses he'd spread along her collarbone had set her near-unsalvageably afire and she'd asked him to stop, his first reaction had been to whisper a reprimand of, "Rory," his breath hot against her neck.

That one simple word had been enough to weaken her resolve. She hadn't wanted to stop either.

However she'd insisted and, true to their promise, he'd ceased his advances, and she hers. They'd dressed in silence and Jess had remained quiet the rest of the evening, the kisses reserved and lacklustre. On that one night—though afterward his arm had remained around her shoulder—she'd felt the separation between them palpable.

Rory thought about all this now, for the thousandth time, envisioning the pro/con list burned into her memory, as she lay in the quiet warmth of a sunlight-strewn morning, safely tucked away from the wintery outdoors. Idly as she traced the hem of her top sheet, Rory wondered if the supplies on his list ever included condoms.

Rory tossed the pillow and blankets off of her now and plodded across to the bathroom. In the shower, she washed quickly but enjoyed the feel of hot water for a long spell afterward. Later, after dressing, brushing her hair into a short ponytail and her teeth into minty freshness, she regarded herself in the foggy mirror and thought about it some more.

Then, watching her hand replace her toothbrush into the cup containing Jess's toothbrush—the first of his many belongings to find themselves permanent residents in her apartment—Rory felt an inkling of calm. Fixated on the toothbrushes, two individual items bound together by the painted white plastic of her rubber duckie cup, she smiled.

In many ways she and Jess had become almost domestic, with plans and routines, and a care and companionship, not to mention attraction, that she could count on. She was grateful that they'd had the opportunity to become friends first. Despite the unpredictability of his personality, the solidarity and trust she felt with him now was present in all acts of their relationship. Even when he'd obviously not wanted to, and though he'd coaxed, he'd stopped, because she'd asked. She had a hard time picturing any event dampening the profound way he clearly respected her. She knew that no incident could destroy the intense way she loved him in return.

With another wipe of the mirror's steam and one parting look at the newfound determination in her eyes, she left the bathroom and found her phone.

Her mother answered on the third ring. With bullish vigour, Rory dived right in. "You would want to know, right?"

"Rory?"

"I mean, if certain events were imminent, you would want me to tell you about them, right?"

Still surprised, Lorelai replied warily, "Uh, I think so. I guess it would depend on the events in question."

"Certain potentially life-altering events…?" Rory hinted, a new frustration presenting itself.

"The internship? Did you get it?"

"No. I mean, I don't know about that yet. But I was referring to events of a personal nature."

"You're gonna have to spell it out for me, Hon."

"Jess and I have been together for a while now."

"Uh-huh..."

"And I love him dearly."

"I know you do, in all his James Dean glory."

"And he loves me too."

"Also fairly evident. He grunts at all the right times."

"And I've been thinking about…"

"Oh…!" Recognition rang in Lorelai's voice before being cut off by a short, surprised, "Huh."

"What did that 'Huh' mean?" Rory demanded.

"Nothing! Nothing."

"Yeah, right."

"I'm just surprised is all. I thought you were already..."

"You did?"

"Well yeah."

"No!"

"Luke and I had a bet."

"You did not!" Rory cried, aghast. "Mom! Tell me you didn't!"

"Alright, we didn't _actually_ have a bet. But that's mostly because we couldn't decide on which of us got to take the side that you were already doing it!"

"Oh my God!" Rory moaned, putting a hand to her forehead.

"We both thought it was clearly the winning side. Boy, is my face red."

" _Your_ face is red!" Rory plunked down onto the floor, next to her bed. "You're having conversations with Luke about me and Jess and… that… and _your_ face is red?"

"It wasn't just Luke, Hon," Lorelai admitted sheepishly. "Babette and Miss Patty were there also. It was Miss Patty who brought it up."

"Oh my God! Is the whole town talking about us?"

"It's made a few loops, yeah. Miss Patty alluded to it in her newsletter."

"Well stop the presses! How could people be talking about such things?"

"Well… I might have let a couple of things slip…"

"What!"

"Look, I know you've had feelings for Jess for quite a while now, just as I suspected it years ago. And I know he's been spending weekends over there…" Lorelai's tone ignited as she continued, "And I've _seen_ your apartment. I know you only have one bed. Therefore, I know you two are sleeping together. From that point on, it's not hard to imagine you're also 'not-sleeping' together. What I wouldn't give to not be able to imagine it."

Despite her discomfort over the Stars Hollow gossip machine, Rory couldn't help smiling weakly at her mother's logic. When in Stars Hollow, Rory and Jess never slept together, both staying at their respective homes. Rory insisted on this, for the sakes of Luke and Lorelai; she hadn't wanted to make anyone uncomfortable. But her mother was right. Of course when Jess stayed in New Haven, he was sleeping in her bed. It was no secret.

Lorelai went on, "I mentioned to Miss Patty about your cute little apartment and she put two and two together and gave words to my secret fears and started the conversation that had me wanting to take an ice pick to my ears and schedule a lobotomy just to wipe the idea from my memory…"

"Fine! Fine!" Rory interrupted before Lorelai could get too graphic in her rhetoric. "Well… we've done… _some_ things but we've never…"

"No details! I beg of you. The ice pick! The lobotomy!"

"But we are seriously considering it. You know I would have told you, right? That is, if you wanted to know."

Lorelai sighed. "Yeah… I guess I'd want to know."

Rory's eyes fell on her book bag, sitting just within reach. Idly, as she contemplated her next words, she pulled the bag towards her lap. "Consider yourself 'in the know,'" she said softly.

"Rory, are you sure?"

"Yes." Rory toyed with the shoulder strap of the book bag. "But I'd like to know what you think."

"'Just don't do it.' It's the slogan Nike should have gone with."

"Mom, seriously."

"I am serious. Imagine telling legions of teens to 'Just do it'! How irresponsible is that?"

Rory played with the Velcro on her bag now. "I could wait forever… but I _don't want to_. When will it ever be the right time? When will I ever not have an education or a career ahead of me? Never, that's when. And I don't want to spend the rest of my life being too scared to try."

"Aw, there's my emotionally stunted girl! _Hon_ ," Lorelai commiserated, "I don't want you to be _scared_. You shouldn't be scared when it's about to happen. If you're confident in your relationship, and trust in each other, it'll be the most natural thing in the world. Sex can be a good thing provided you do it for the right reasons."

"I know," she said, although she wasn't entirely sure she did.

"And provided you're careful," Lorelai stressed.

"We will be."

"We're talking safety nets and buffer zones and seven extra harnesses kind of careful!"

"We're not doing it on a trapeze!"

"Aahhh!" Lorelai cried. "No visuals! I'm just saying be careful!"

"You know we'd be careful."

"Not Lorelai and Christopher at sixteen on her bedroom balcony kind of careful."

"Eww the balcony? Did I _really_ need to know that?"

"I'm just saying. Things happen."

"I know." Rory pouted. "And now I know too much."

"You _do_ still have college to finish and a career in front of you," Lorelai agreed.

"Yes I do."

"And maybe a fabulous internship next summer."

"Yes."

"I want you to finish college."

"I do too and so does Jess."

Lorelai tried a new tactic. "Are you scared of it because you aren't sure of your relationship? Because that's a real sign—"

"No, actually, I'm scared of it because of you."

"Me?"

"The risk you took, and the gamble you lost when you conceived me… apparently on a balcony." A dismayed Rory shook her head at the vision.

Lorelai sighed and paused for a long moment. "Not to encourage you or anything, but I didn't lose anything. I gained a family. That is something I've cherished every day of my life since. Rory, your decision to have sex is yours and yours alone. You can let my life be a warning if you like, but don't let it stop you from living yours. Yes, pregnancy is a very real possibility, as are the responsibilities that arise in that case. Even the act of sex itself can stir up emotions and issues that you didn't necessarily expect. But if you and Jess can handle all that, then, really, how can I complain? You know him better than I do."

"The truth is, I've been thinking about this for a while now. I've been preparing."

"You made the pro/con list."

"Yes I made the list…" Ignoring Lorelai's humour, Rory continued, "And I went to the doctor and I got a prescription which I've already started using and I know all the details about that…" Rory leaned back against the Hide-a-bed as the realization finally articulated itself. "And I'm prepared."

"You know that the pill doesn't protect against—"

"Yes I know that too," Rory interjected then rambled digressively, "And not that I'm worried about that because Jess and I have talked about that and he's fine and I'm fine—"

"I know _you're_ fine."

Rory ignored her mother's interruption and continued, "…But I plan to take extra precautions as well, to cut out that point-one-percent chance."

"I like extra precautions. Extra precautions are good." After a pause, came Lorelai's quiet observation. "It _seems_ like you're prepared. It seems like you've decided."

Through the silence that followed, Rory could hear her mother's fingers drumming slowly against the table. "I suppose when I'm leading by my example, I really can't complain that you waited until you were 20." More finger-drumming. "I applaud your span of abstinence, by the way. It was a good, long stint. In comparison, at least."

"Well thank you. I gave it my best."

"I guess this doesn't really change things since I thought you were already."

"Yeah, stop talking about this with the entire town! Luke and Babette and Miss Patty," she muttered. "Miss Patty! Anybody but Miss Patty!"

"And Luke's already given Jess the gears," Lorelai went on, resigned to fate. "Let me tell you, that boy got a real talking to!"

"Oh my God!"

"Sorry, Kid," she commiserated. "Yeah… Well I guess I should go and… do an anti-fertility dance."

"Dust off your tap shoes," came Rory's flippant reply.

Lorelai tried one last-ditch effort. "Honestly, my heart breaks to think of you raising a child alone. I mean… I know you could do it… but it's really hard. I speak from experience. And you'd have to put your whole life on hold. Everything you've worked for."

"I wouldn't be alone. Jess would be there."

"Oh, right," Lorelai agreed, but something in her tone irritated Rory just the slightest bit.

"He would." Rory was sure of it.

"I'm just saying, Fort Knox kind of careful," Lorelai reminded. "I love you."

Rory relented. "I love you too, Mom."

"Call me anytime."

"Ok, bye"

"Bye."

 _ **AN: Please drop me a line to let me know what you think!**_


	3. Saturday Afternoon

_**AN: I had fun with this chapter. Please let me know what you think!**_

SATURDAY AFTERNOON

Jess sat back on the couch and Rory, her feet up on the cushion beside her, leaned against him. Jess's arm around her shoulders pulled her in tighter and her hand on his thigh returned the comforting gesture. They had been flipping through channels for the last half an hour. Or rather, Jess had. Rory had often heard of men liking to control the remote. She'd long since discovered, in Jess, the truth behind the rumour.

She knew the pattern. Watch one show for a while on _this_ channel, then during the commercial break, flip to another show on _that_ channel. Watch the second show until you'd missed the commercial break—as well as some vital plot point from the first show. Repeat.

Or else, Jess would get sidetracked by something entirely different on a third channel and wouldn't even bother flipping back to the first, paying little mind to the time he'd invested there previously. Rory smirked and shook her head. It would be annoying if it weren't actually a little cute.

Tonight though, Rory was too preoccupied with her thoughts to care.

"Saturday TV sucks," Jess uttered.

"Uh-huh," she said, smirking still. "Maybe if you were actually watching it, it wouldn't suck."

"What do you want to watch?"

"Doesn't matter. I'm just thinking anyway."

"About the internship?"

"Um. Yeah," she lied, but for once Jess didn't notice. In actually, it was her mother's voice that echoed through her brain, specifically the irritating allegation that Jess would leave her to raise a child alone. She really couldn't see that happening. He was just too attentive, she decided. He wasn't in this relationship just for sex, after all they'd never even had sex and he was still with her, attentive as always. He really cared about her. And they'd been friends for a long time. She knew him.

She convinced herself valiantly but the thoughts were starting to wig her out. She couldn't quite picture him raising a family either.

Finally, when she caught a snippet of a _Huggies_ commercial, nanoseconds before the channel switched—and she decided the entire world, including network TV advertising executives, must be conspiring against her—she summoned a bit of courage and dove right in. "What do you think about kids?" she asked.

"Well that's burying the needle." Startled, the remote-control-in-hand dropped into his lap and he turned away from the TV to look at her in surprise. "I dunno. What do you think about kids, Rory?"

Jess's eyes widened further as she rambled. "Well I suppose I'd like to have them some day. But not for a while. I mean, a long while. A long, long while."

"A long while. Got it." Concern marred his features.

"I think I'd like to start my career first, you know?"

"OK." He paused. "But would you really like to start your career and then interrupt it? Assuming of course, that it would need to be interrupted."

"Well it would probably need to be interrupted for little while, at least."

"Yeah, for a little while."

"A lot less than the long while previously mentioned."

"So I gathered."

"Yeah. But it would be good. Worthwhile and stuff," Rory rambled, not really paying attention to what she was saying, "Besides they start out as these cute little cherubs but then become these whole people. These whole people who are _family_. How cool is that?" Jess was staring at her as if she were deranged, so she added, "Of course it would be a lot of work to get to that point…"

"Uh-huh."

"But I think it would be worth it. I think." Rory took a deep breath. "Actually I've never really thought about it. I've always just thought of my career."

"Sounds like you got it all worked out," came the ironic reply.

"Hey! You didn't answer my question."

"Didn't I?" he enquired, disengaging his hold around her shoulders and reaching into the pocket of his jeans.

"No!"

"What question was that again?"

"How do you do that? Evade questions so easily, I mean."

"Sheer talent, I guess. Or maybe it's just verbal sleight of hand." Jess turned towards her and offered a shiny coin for her perusal. Dramatically, he placed the quarter in his other hand and those fingers closed around it. Rory, who watched with a raised eyebrow, was no stranger to these antics; she wasn't the least bit surprised when he opened the hand which should have contained the coin and the palm was empty, as though the quarter had vanished. But expectation aside, Rory was still mesmerized for a moment.

But only a moment. "God! You're doing it again!" She shook her head as she caught herself drifting off topic for a second time. "What about kids, Jess?"

Jess looked extremely blindsided. " _Having them_ , you mean? Just so we're clear here."

"Well... Yeah." Her cheeks heated up.

"Jeez," he said, growing serious. "That's a crazy question. What kind of father would _I_ be?" He grabbed the remote and aimed it briefly at the TV. Several channels flicked by.

Rory was patiently silent until he looked at her. With a start she realized he was truly asking her. "I don't know," she replied, too surprised to formulate a real answer.

Jess nodded and looked away again.

"Well would you play with the kids? Like basketball or something?"

"Only until they got too big to fit through the hoop."

"Jess!" she admonished, laughing despite herself.

"Nothing but net!"

"And the crowd roars," she said dryly as she shook her head. "Come on. Seriously."

"Yeah, I'd play basketball with them, I guess. If they wanted to." He shrugged, decidedly ill-at-ease and non-committal.

"Would you be a disciplinarian?"

"Discipline." Jess snorted. "What I know about discipline you could fit into a thimble."

"That's not true. You work two jobs and you're very conscientious about it. I mean, you get there on time and you do what you should."

She digressed as a thought occurred to her. "Although, there was that one time when my mom and I helped out at the diner, when Luke was swamped with his uncle's funeral. You were supposed to be working but I could barely get you to lift a finger. I turned my back for a second and you were out the door."

Jess smiled. "I only did that so that you'd have to come find me."

"So the truth comes out!" Rory shook her head happily at the memory. "Actually I kind of thought so. It was a really good excuse to grab your hand."

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh. See? More history. But anyway, otherwise you're really very diligent about work. Luke said your manager at the evil empire really thinks the world of you. He told me about the Employee of the Month award."

"Two of them now," Jess conceded.

"That's right! Two. I forgot." Rory paused, thoughtfully. "So you know a thing or two about discipline. Don't tell me you don't."

"It's different."

"Well, would I have to be the disciplinarian?"

"I dunno."

"Would you change diapers?"

"Couldn't we just stop feeding them instead?"

Rory wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, maybe."

"Thank God."

"We've already established that I would be the one to help them with their homework. Math and sciences, especially."

"You got that right."

"But you'd read to them, I imagine."

"The classics."

"Yes, you'd bore them to tears with the wearisome Ernest Hemingway." Rory smiled.

"You're forgetting they'd be my kids too. So they would've inherited the Hemingway-Appreciation gene. The Hemingway-Dissing gene is recessive."

"I _don't_ even know my own kids anymore," Rory lamented, deadpan.

"What kind of mother _are_ you?"

"Indeed."

Jess snorted. Then after a while, as Rory was wondering about her own commitment to having children, he went on. "I could teach them how to evade questions."

"Your kids would be a handful, wouldn't they?"

"Oh sure, now they're _my_ kids. When the chips are down…" he lamented.

"Yes, only when they're behaving badly. And reading Hemingway."

"I see where this is going."

"Same diff' though really," she said, sliding in one more crack at Hemingway before pausing for more thought. "Your kids _will_ be a handful," she stated finally.

"Hey! They'd get just as much sass from your side."

"Oh would they now?" She raised her eyebrows in amusement.

"Hell yeah!" After a moment, he sighed. "But they'd get all their good traits from you too," he conceded dismissively.

Rory smiled. "Not all of them."

"Why do you ask, Rory? I mean, did you jump on while I wasn't looking or something? Is there something you're trying to tell me?"

She chuckled. "No."

"Are you actually saying you want kids?"

"No! At least, not any time soon! I swear!" Jess looked visibly more relaxed. "No, these are just the kind of things a person needs to know."

" _Does_ a person? What kind of person is that?"

Rory blushed more. "A person who thinks about…"

Into the silence, an expectant Jess said, "Kids?"

"Sex."

Jess nodded silently.

"I just need you to tell me that having kids wouldn't be the worst thing ever. If accidents happen."

"As long as you're OK with them having such a screw-up for a father."

"You're not a screw-up."

"Have we met? The name's Jess," he barked.

"Come on…"

"Jess Mariano," he elaborated. "Son of Jimmy, the Master of Absenteeism."

At the mention of Jimmy, Lorelai's words came flooding back. Rory gulped. "You'd be there, though, right? To help raise them."

"Jeez. If you actually wanted me to be. I wouldn't leave you in the lurch, if that's what you mean. I've always hated that about Jimmy." Jess sighed deeply. "But you should know, I'd really suck as a father. I don't know the first thing about it. I never had one."

"Well neither did I, really."

"But you had a mother. I barely had one of those either. Luke's the first stable family member I've ever met! And even he's a little whacked." Jess paused. "Given my role models... You'd _want_ to have kids with me?"

"I don't really think about kids," she admitted. "When I picture my future, I'm really only picturing what I'm doing. My career. Kids don't seem to fit the lifestyle of a jet-setting foreign correspondent. I mean, I'll be on the road a lot. Airplanes, taxis, bullet trains. Wherever the story goes, so will I." She sighed. "Sometimes I think I'd make a bad mother."

"I doubt that." A strange sadness was in his eyes.

"Just promise me you don't think it would be the worst thing ever."

"It wouldn't be the worst thing," he said. "And I'd want to be there. Whatever you want. We could knock out a couple of kids and screw them up together. It'll be the stuff fairy tales are made of. Brothers Grimm, mostly." Jess placed his arm around her shoulder again, and kissed the side of her forehead. "You have to promise me something too."

"What's that?"

"Promise me you'll wake me before you jump on. I'd really like to be there."

Rory laughed and hugged him suddenly. "Deal."

After a moment, Jess shook his head silently as he went back to flipping through channels, as though he couldn't quite believe they'd just had this conversation. Truth be told, Rory couldn't quite believe it either. She only knew she felt a whole lot better.

"There's nothing on TV," he said again.

"Well, I should do some homework anyway…"

"Now there's the discipline!" Jess turned off the TV quickly and the whirlwind dizzied her. He jumped off the couch and strode to her bookcase. "Hey, where did you put that photo album?" Rory suspected he was overjoyed at the change of topic.

Rory had been sitting cross-legged on the floor for about twenty-five minutes. Her _Ladefoged_ textbook—her professors liked to refer to textbooks by the author's last name rather than the title or the subject matter—was sprawled out on her coffee table in front of her. She became aware of how long she'd been sitting there when she felt the sensation of her legs going numb. Sighing, she adjusted her posture and stretched both arms above her head.

Turning, she caught the gaze of Jess who was sitting on the couch behind her, leaning up against the armrest. She noted with a tinge of surprise that he was still looking through her album of photos from the European backpacking trip that she'd shared with her mother. Come to think of it, he looked at her photo albums a lot. He smiled at her and turned a page of the album which was propped upright in his lap. She returned the grin.

"Hey Rory," he began.

"What's up?"

"What's the story behind this photo, again?" He tilted the album towards her, offering her a brief peek. The page was dedicated to their stay in Rome and the picture he gestured to was the one of _la Bocca della Verità_. Beside a stone wall ornamented with a large abstract face, Lorelai was standing with an expression of mock horror on her face and waving her "handless" arm in the air. "I'm sure you told me about it before but I don't remember why your mother's hand is pulled up into her sleeve like that."

Rory chuckled at the memory. "It's the Mouth of Truth," she said. "Legend has it, if you put your hand in his mouth, he'll decide if you've been honest or not. If you've ever told a lie, he'll bite your hand off."

"So, according to this picture, your mother's been a very bad girl."

Rory laughed. "It was her idea to pretend our hands had really gotten chopped off. I did it too, but the picture of me is in her photo album back at home. I can't tell you how long we stood there, debating and trying to summon the courage to actually stick our hands in that little hole."

"Did you?"

"Eventually."

"Freaky?"

"Very freaky. I felt like there was actually someone back there wielding an axe."

"I guess the real test of whether someone had told a lie or not was whether or not they were comfortable sticking their hand in the hole."

"Yeah, I bet."

"So you've been dishonest then?" Jess smirked.

Rory smirked back. "Well, would you stick _your_ hand in there?"

Jess, still grinning, looked at his fingers for a moment and said, "Touché. I'd probably debate as long as you did."

"I thought so," she verbally poked.

"Not lies. Half-truths. Half-truths."

"Yeah, yeah."

"And this one?" Jess pointed to a photo of a flustered Rory and a block of limburger, next to lemon trees and a yappy-breed little dog in a basket.

Rory laughed in self-effacement. "That's Caffe Della Penna, on the corner of 'Bark' and 'Cheese'," she began and Jess nodded thoughtfully. She was about to explain further that she'd received the unwanted, stinky cheese, due to a misspoken Italian word or two, and, because she hadn't wanted to harangue the staff over her own mistake, she'd forced herself to eat it.

Jess spoke first.

"Well that's all I wanted to know. Sorry to interrupt you. As you were." He gestured to her texts then flipped the page in the photo album before burying his nose in it.

Surprised at being cut so short, Rory murmured, "Oh, right," and turned back to her books, shaking her head.

Despite her momentary surprise, in no time she'd attained the optimal state-of-being for studying—all distracting sights and sounds blocked out—and she easily maintained that state for another twenty minutes.

As she shifted her legs again before stiffness set in, Rory suddenly became aware of the sound of a pen scrawling across paper. She, herself, wasn't writing and she'd thought Jess to be reading by this point. She craned her neck and caught a clear glimpse of Jess scribbling, his arm moving back and forth with every line of text he was apparently composing. He was still holding the photo album in his lap. "Are you writing in my book?"

Jess looked up, startled out of his concentration. "I wouldn't do that."

"You most definitely would. What about my copy of _Howl_?" she accused lightly, referring to the poem that he'd secretly "borrowed" from her the day they'd first met.

"Oh I would do _that._ It's Ginsberg. How can I not comment?"

"What are you doing?" Rory queried as she stretched an arm towards him, meaning to tip the album towards herself. Jess pulled the book out of her reach before she could grasp it.

"Ah-ah-ah!" he teased.

"What are you doing?" she repeated.

Jess took a deep long breath and let it all out in one perfunctory sigh. "I'm writing."

"I know. In my book." She tried to give him the benefit of the doubt but found herself just a little bit irritated. "And although I love it when you write in the margins of my novels, because you know I find your comments insightful and brilliant, you writing in my photo album is not cool. Those are my memories. You weren't even there!"

"Not _in_ your album. _Behind_ your album."

"Behind?"

Then Jess reluctantly held up a yellow steno pad, back cover towards her.

Her eyes widened. "What are you writing?"

"Grocery list."

"Yeah right. Then why are you trying to hide it?"

"It's fiction."

"Fiction," she cooed. "Your novel?"

"No, it's a _fictional grocery_ list. I told you. I wouldn't want you to go out and actually buy anything on this list."

She ignored him. "What's it about?"

"Not that you would buy groceries anyway."

Rory smiled expectantly. "Come on, Jess. Tell me what it's about!"

"I can't tell you that."

"Why not?"

"I don't know."

"I won't stop hounding you until you give me a reason."

He sighed again. "Then you're about to get really annoying." He closed the photo album with the steno pad safely tucked inside it.

"Just tell me what it's about and the annoyance will stop."

"I don't know yet."

"Don't know what?"

"What the story's about."

"How can you not know? You're writing it and you're surprisingly intuitive."

"It's not finished yet."

"Oooh," Rory uttered as a new thought occurred to her. "Do you write every weekend, sitting on my couch, while I'm doing my homework?"

"Impossible. I just learned how to spell."

Realizing she wouldn't get any information, Rory pouted. "You suck." At that moment the telephone trilled. Such was her sudden excitement, that her lungs instantly imploded. "And you're extremely lucky that I have to take this call!" she cried with the little oxygen she had left, jumping up from the floor with such vigour her legs cramped up. In a flash, a breathlessly excited and nervous Rory had retrieved her phone.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Gilmore?" questioned a sociable voice.

"Yes!"

"This is Professor LaFavre."

"Oh Professor! Hi! It's so good to hear from you!"

The voice chuckled at her enthusiasm. "I think you know why I'm calling."

"Yes?" she squeaked, on pins and needles.

"I've just heard from the head of the committee. They've made their decision and I think you'll be very happy with the verdict."

Rory gave a frenzied look at Jess, happily gesturing towards him with her free arm. "I'm going? They picked _me_! Oh thank you, Professor! Thank you for your recommendation, and your assistance and for calling to let me know and… Thank you!"

"I assure you Ms. Gilmore, it was your dedicated work which made the difference."

"Oh thank you!" she said again.

The professor laughed lightly. "Stop by my office on Monday, during office hours. I'll have the information for you then."

"Oh, yes, Sir. I'll see you Monday."

"All right then, good-bye."

"Good-bye, Professor!" Rory hung up the phone, spun into a little twirl and flopped down on the couch beside Jess's feet. Jess scooted his toes out of the way just in time. "Jess! I'm spending the summer in Guatemala!"

"I gathered that."

"I'm going on a media trip!"

"Yeah."

"To work alongside a coffee-cooperative volunteer group!"

"Yeah."

"And help actual coffee farmers with coffee growing, maybe harvesting, marketing!" Rory jumped up from the couch again to pace a few steps back and forth, gesticulating gleefully.

"Yeah."

She turned to Jess. "And they're building a new school for the local community. Maybe they'll have me help with that. You know, I volunteered on a construction project when I was at Chilton. Which, by the way, was not without its near-disasters, so maybe they won't want me to help with that, but Jess, coffee!"

"Yeah. I know." Jess smirked wryly.

"And I'll meet all these people from the community and get their stories, and learn so much from them and shed light on the plights of the country and the plights of the coffee farmers and the truth about sustainability and biodiversity and eco-tourism practices! And, oh God, what will I learn? And think of all the coffee I'll drink! Fresh-from-the-bean, pure coffee!" She jumped a little, on the spot.

"I think maybe you've had too much already."

"And my articles are going to be published _as a series_!" she cried dreamily. She plunked down on the couch again, her knees finally threatening to give out.

"You sure are excited about going."

"I sure am!"

"You should celebrate."

"Yes we should!"

 _ **AN: In a perfect world, I'd have the next chapter up within the week. But I've got quite a bit more work to do on it so that doesn't seem likely. Wish me luck! In the meantime, please review! Thanks for reading!**_


	4. Saturday Evening

_**AN: Sorry it took so long to post this chapter. It was a real bear to write. Lots of revisions. Lots of "key" ideas scrapped for something completely different. Lots of disgust for my writing. Anyway I had a breakthrough last night and now I'm pretty happy with it. I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know what you think! Thank you to those who have already posted some words of encouragement!  
**_

 **SATURDAY EVENING**

They were walking home through the dusk, down an unpopulated, picturesque path lined with trees. Rather, Jess was walking; Rory was skipping and bounding along beside him, a fact he'd already gone to great lengths to tease her about.

"There's something to be said for nonchalance," he added.

Rory ignored him, and his ever-smirking face, and tossed their joined hands up into the night air until Jess laughed. "But it's Guatemala, Jess! And I'm going to go there!" Nothing he said could dampen her excitement over the internship. Not that he was trying to dampen it, he was just a classically nonchalant person.

After a while he said, "You keep hopping like that and you're gonna pull my arm right out of it's socket."

Growling with a sudden triumphant impulse, she pulled his arm straight out from his side and, laughing, dashed around his body, drawing him into a slow rotation in the middle of the path. "Try decaf!" he cried. She loved the way he self-consciously laughed while scanning their surroundings to see if anyone had caught his moment of embarrassment.

When she'd completely circled him, and they were once again facing the right way down the path, he stopped her with a grunt and threw a strong arm around her shoulders. He hugged her to him so snugly with that arm, that her sneakered feet were almost lifted off the ground. They were laughing still, faces close together, as Rory threw her own arm around his waist and they continued on their way.

In a moment, the wooded path gave way to an open expanse and they found themselves coming upon a little, makeshift, outdoor ice rink. Here, strings of white lights that would have made Harry the Twinkle Light Man proud were wound around the trees, tall into the night sky, and all manner of skaters were gliding in circles beneath them. Off to the far side, next to a refreshment stand, little round bistro tables such as those found at any Parisian outdoor café, dotted a patio. Somehow the southern Connecticut landscape looked exotic in its beauty. _But not as exotic as Guatemala!_ She thrilled at the thought.

"Look at that, Jess. So pretty."

"Mmm-hmm," he murmured.

"We should go skating sometime."

"Yeah, you can work off some of that energy. How many cups did you have at supper?"

"Mmm…" she considered her caffeine intake. "I'm barely subsisting on only three cups."

"My God, it's dire."

"It's money for nothing and your chicks for free," she agreed.

He raised an eyebrow. "You wanna skate?"

"No. My mind is more on the concession stand."

"Mm-hmmm. We can stop for some coffee, if you like."

"You actually feel the need to ask?"

"Just empty discourse, My Dear. Rhetoric, pure and simple."

Excited, Rory pulled his hand and led him right up to the small kiosk. True to his threat that morning, she had paid for dinner that night—and she was happy to do so considering he kept her fed more than she cared to admit—but now, as Jess ordered two coffees from the bored barista, he fished in his wallet for a few bills.

A coin his change, which he absently fiddled with while they waited, he turned to lean against the counter and regard Rory as she smiled and talked about nothing much, filling the silence as only a Lorelai might.

Her voice trailed off as the coin flashed, catching the reflection of a bright light. Though his eyes were on her, Jess flipped the coin over the backs of the fingers of one hand. The coin cascaded over his fingers—the index, middle, ring, then pinkie—before disappearing into his palm and smoothly re-emerging at the top, to cascade once more. For the thousandth time, Rory marvelled at the character that was Jess.

"You were saying?" he said, asking her to continue her story... but she'd already forgotten it.

She smiled. She was having a great time. Instead she said, "We should skate, here, before the winter is over. I'll teach you everything I know about skating. That won't take long, because I suck. I haven't gone ice skating in ages."

He chuckled.

"There'll be no ice skating in Guatemala!" she stated eagerly.

"No, there's a lot of things that won't be in Guatemala," he said pensively.

When the server passed the coffees over the counter towards them, Jess dropped the quarter into the 'Have a penny, need a penny' jar and accepted the cups with a nod. She led him to the boards surrounding the rink and propped herself against it, to watch the skaters for a while. She took a long draw of coffee, which was surprisingly good considering the proprietor's lack of enthusiasm.

"Mmmm," she hummed, as much for the coffee as for the setting. The only thing that could make this night more beautiful would be a light snowfall, Rory mused. The snow-thing was really her mother's thing but an appreciation had been instilled in Rory nonetheless.

"I can't really skate. How 'bout you?"

"Yeah," Jess said, teasing. "Maybe I'll teach you everything _I_ know."

She gave him a secret smile. "I know you will."

"Like take that guy for example." Jess pointed at a lonely skater. "He's not bending his knees enough."

"Oh I see," replied Rory seriously, playing along.

"And he's leaning too far back. He should be leaning more forward. For balance."

"Wait. _You_ can skate?" She'd figured they'd both be pretty evenly matched in the skating department—that is to say, total beginners.

"Yeah. Didn't I _just_ say that?" He stood leaning back against the boards, facing her now.

"Well, yeah, I guess. But I thought you meant yeah in the 'no' sense."

"Must be the reporter in you. You pick up on such _subtle nuances_. No wonder they're sending you on this internship."

Rory ignored his jibe. "You know, in answering a negative question you have to be very careful that the answer isn't ambiguous," she explained.

"Somebody should tell Cliff Goddard about you."

"As in, 'Yes, I can't really skate,'" she went on, as though they were having two separate conversations.

"So I hear."

"It's ambiguous."

"You're the one who asked the ambiguous question."

"Fine," she relented, accepting his newfound advantage. "When did you learn to skate?"

"Long time ago."

"How long?"

"When I was a kid."

"Really…" Rory smiled. She fingered the rim of her coffee cup in anticipation. "In New York?"

"Yes, that is where I lived."

"Where?"

"A place with ice." He paused as though considering. "And skates. And people wearing the skates."

"Rockefeller Center?"

"God no. Too many tourists."

"Are you actually going to tell me the story or just hint at it?"

"Not much to tell." He lifted the coffee cup from her hands. Her whimper went unheeded as he placed both cups on the ledge safely away from her.

At his affront, she pouted. "Well I want to hear it anyway."

He pulled her snugly into his arms and she gasped, her mind no longer focussed on the coffee nor the conversation. With a smirk he threw her a bone, "When I was a kid, my mom used to take me to a local rink. She enrolled me in some lessons and we used to do that before everything went to shit."

"What happened?" she questioned.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you said before, you 'barely had a mother'. You're not very close with her. You don't seem to get along."

"Boy, you're really batting a thousand today," Jess balked, dropping her from his arms. He ran his hand through his hair and shrugged his nonchalance in a gesture so infuriatingly sexy even James Dean could have studied him for pointers.

Rory rolled her eyes at his continued standoffishness. "When did you start using baseball metaphors?"

"It's more of a general-knowledge metaphor."

"But with roots in baseball. You don't like baseball."

"You understood the reference. You don't like baseball."

"Alright fine. But back to the original topic."

"Well one topic is as good as the next."

She raised an eyebrow at him and tilted her head. He rolled his eyes right back at her.

"But that's not what I want to talk about," he said petulantly.

"OK, fine. What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't want to talk," he growled, a twinkle in his eyes that rivaled those in the trees. And then she was in his arms again and, though she was so aware of it, he was successfully deflecting. His lips pressed into hers, persuasively searching, as his hands secured her body tightly to his. In the chill in the night air, his hands were cool and thrilling.

His tongue played coy, a mere hint at what he was capable of. And the more he dabbled, the more it convinced her that speech was unnecessary, that all that they needed could be found in a kiss.

Rory whispered between kisses, "Damn… How did you get so sexy?"

"It's you," he replied.

"No really," she murmured. "The way you kiss..." She began a more aggressive campaign, his dabbles suddenly not nearly enough. His lips were soft yet firm—in no way yielding to her pressure, meeting her aggression soundly—and tempting on a whole new level.

He tilted his head the other way, taking access to his tongue away from her wanting mouth. She sighed.

"I've got great inspiration," he said, now sampling her cheek.

"So do I." She gulped. His lips were charming as they trailed further along her jaw. "You should know… The way you kiss inspires me to... other things."

"Other things," he urged, against her neck, where his kisses had ventured. Though it wasn't inflected like a question, she heard a question nonetheless. Her heart pounded.

"You know. Other things."

He stopped kissing her entirely and read her for a while. What he saw there made him smile. "Good."

She smiled. "Let's get out of here."

"Hang on. I'm not done."

"Mmm," was her response as he went in for one more lengthy kiss, which led to another.

Always a step ahead of her, his kisses ceased just as her lips again craved more. She was doe-eyed as he grabbed his cup of coffee and tugged on her hand. "Come on," he said.

She remembered herself in the nick of time—to grab her own coffee cup—before he led her eagerly away.

With coffees in hand, the two walked away from the lights of the plaza, to continue along the same path through the trees that had brought them there. The sun had set while they'd been out. The lighting was low here, no twinkle lights, only the occasional street lamp and the clutches of tree branches shading them from it. And it was this new level of light which allowed Rory, with awe, to look up into the clear night sky at the vastness of the stars.

"Jess, look at all the stars."

"It's clear tonight."

"There's _Cassiopeia_."

"Is it?"

"Yeah, it's that zigzag of stars there."

"Oh so it is," he teased. "And there's _Plungeretta_ , the great toilet-plunger in the sky."

She elbowed him, barely amused. She was still in awe. "You know the constellations are actually explained by beautifully eloquent and tragic morality myths, right?"

"Oh _yeah_ ," he argued ardently. "See Plungeretta was sent to live in the sky because _all_ the toilets in _all_ the land were replaced by _beautiful_ non-clogging toilets." Jess looked at Rory pointedly and continued, "The fair maiden, Plungeretta, spent her whole mortal life on a crusade to get those nasty low-flow models replaced by their former water-guzzling counterparts. She was banished to the sky by Aquarius, guardian of water, sent to live out a torturous and _tragic_ immortality for instilling mankind's lack of a water-conserving _morality_." He added as an aside, "Besides, once the toilets worked again then she wasn't really needed anyway."

"Of course," she agreed, more amused.

"Once banished," he added mournfully, "She was forced to think about what she'd done forever and to eternally watch all the toilets flush wastefully, if you'll pardon the pun." He pointed in the general direction of the sky. "See? Right there, that straight line of stars with the bowl shaped cluster on the end? That's her."

Laughter broke through her mock-severity. "Now you're just making up stories," she teased.

He laughed too. "Well someone makes them up. Why shouldn't it be us?"

"Is that what your novel's about? Plungeretta and the low-flow toilets?"

"I'd like to think it's better than that."

"I know it is."

"Pretty presumptuous. Now your turn."

"What?"

"We're making up constellation back-stories. What about those stars over there?"

"Which ones?" She turned her face to the sky and came closer to Jess, just to his side, to gaze over his shoulder.

"There."

She followed the line of his arm, past his shoulders and into the sky. Then her eyes trailed that arm back down to his face, to find it turned peacefully towards where he had pointed. He smelled of coffee and soap and she smiled. When he caught her looking, he placed a palm on her shoulder and gently pulled her in front of him, her back nestling into the crook of his arm.

She paused a moment, her pulse quickening. She'd dropped hints all night but he'd refused to pick them up. Maybe it was time to make her move, one more decisive hint that he couldn't ignore. Biting her lip, she regarded the stars for a moment, considering her words. "They're lovers."

"Oh yeah? How can you tell?"

She leaned very close to his face so that, as much as possible, they shared the same field of vision. She pointed up thoughtfully, drawing in the sky. "Well, see this line of stars angled towards that line of stars?"

"Yeah."

"Well she's leaning this way, towards him. And he's over here, leaning towards her."

"OK, yeah."

"And the two bunches of stars, in the middle of each? Those are their hearts, glowing with love.

"Mm," Jess's little laugh was warm and nasal and sexy as it swirled past her ear. Her comment had been sappy but it had elicited a perfect response.

"How did they get there?" he whispered.

'What?"

"Their backstory."

"How do any two people fall in love? All I know is they're lovers... and the moment is right."

"Mmm," he said again, in easy agreement. Agreement with what, she didn't know, but it didn't matter. She went on.

"And this line of stars is his shoulder and neck and head. And his hair's all punked out." She paused, taking a deep breath. "Like yours." That was all she could say at that moment. She knew Jess would pick it up from there.

Jess was silent for a long time; Rory's blush grew more heated with each passing moment.

"Rory, can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah, certainly."

"The subject of sex has come up a lot this weekend. And not just in our normal innuendo kind of way but… way more specific. Why is that?"

"Oh," Rory stammered and her cheeks prickled more intensely. "I've just… I've sort of been rethinking the whole _May_ thing."

"What?" Jess teased carefully, warmly, in a low voice that revealed she had his full attention. His arm around her shoulder squeezed more tightly. "You think the calendar would be better off skipping straight to June?"

"I mean, about what we have planned for May."

"You don't want to?"

She dared to look at him fully, turning slightly in his arms. "No, I do. You know that."

He nodded, slowly mulling. "Just wanted to be sure." He cleared his throat. "You were pretty adamant against it before."

She nodded too. She had been. "Well I want to. And that's the whole point. I don't think we should wait that long."

"Really," he stated, intrigued.

"Really. Unless you want to wait."

Jess smiled warmly. "No…"

Now that she had his full attention, she mentioned, "I think about it. A lot."

"A lot, huh?"

Jess's rate of respiration had increased. She matched him breath for breath. "Yeah. Don't you think about it?" she whispered.

"Only all the time," came his soft reply. "When?"

She gasped. "How about tonight?"

"Well well well." But that was all he said.

His pause prompted her to say, "And?"

"I wonder if you'll be able to see these stars from Guatemala, these lovers," he teased in a liquid voice.

"Jess," she issued in reprimand, staring him down until his eyes finally convinced her to answer, although in complete exasperation, "The stars? I don't know. It's pretty close to the equator. I think they'll look completely different there. But don't avoid the question. Not _this_ question. You're leaving me hanging."

He kissed her forehead. "I'm in. Of course I'm in," he said seriously and she giggled. "That came out with more _double entendre_ than I intended," he added.

She agreed, "Dirty."

Jess didn't say much as they stopped at the corner store on the way to her apartment, save to ask her more about her excitement over Guatemala. In her state of sudden eager nervousness, she was all too happy to oblige the neutral conversation. As she unlocked the door to her apartment, however, the exchange turned again to the subject at hand, and her heart fluttered wildly. "Here we are…" she lead.

"Here we are," he affirmed.

Once inside, they eyed one another thoughtfully as they each unbuttoned their coats and removed their winter accoutrements. Rory didn't bother to hang up her coat as she usually did. She dropped it to the floor and Jess smiled at that. After he'd removed a small bag from its pocket, his jacket followed hers to the pile on the floor.

Jess looked so serious. His eyes burned. Rory gave him a kiss, then slid her palm down his arm to eventually grasp his hand. She smiled at him and guided him the few steps into the living room. Jess placed the paper bag containing their purchase on her computer desk next to the couch and watched as she pulled the coffee table aside and unfolded the hide-a-bed.

Knowing herself to be so singularly regarded, with a fiery blush, Rory grabbed the blankets and pillows, tossing them into some semblance of a made bed. She snuck a peek as he set about removing the watch from his beautifully solid wrist.

Rory suddenly had no idea how to be sexy. She was tugging at a wrinkle in the blanket when Jess tapped her shoulder from behind. She turned to his solemn expression and the kiss that awaited her and knew then that the inherent sexiness that was the way of their relationship would lead her.

 _ **AN: Ok, yes, I did steal a line directly from the show. Bonus points if you caught it. Please review!**_


	5. Saturday Night

_**AN: OK, even more obsessive re-writes were made for this chapter. First the action moved too slowly, like some expository essay, then it moved too quickly, then maybe too slowly again, etc. I lost my confidence numerous times. I hope that, in the end, it turned out alright and you like it!**_

 **SATURDAY NIGHT**

Normally she delighted in sharing the lead, to feel through his behaviour the parallel longing and wonder between them and to shuck the sensation that the actions she chose stripped her motives naked in front of him. Often, even, she'd hide her motives completely under a cloak of reckless abandon brought about by Jess's own formidable ability to seduce.

Tonight, his moderate, soulful kisses and gentle caresses along her shoulders made her smile against his lips. Something about his quiet restraint gave her every indication he was testing her limits. So, with her heart a flurry of activity, Rory pulled him towards herself, taking what she may.

Jess was hers and there was no need to be shy. Her motives were theirs.

"Mmm," he murmured into her kiss. So she responded by nudging his body towards the bed. The two sat down, still kissing, and Rory took the control he so clearly offered. She leaned towards him, urging him down against the mattress.

From above him, her rambling fingers found the collar of his shirt and set about undoing the buttons, one by one, until the shirt hung open enticingly. She backed off from his kisses simply to see his skin, now exposed.

She saw him instead, serious, susceptible and open, drawn in to her advances, and breathed in sharply. She looked away from his intense gaze and subtle, beautiful smirk.

Ok she was still a little nervous. And her motives were certainly naked.

She gulped. She'd undressed him before. This was not new. But the difference here, now, had been brought about by their conversation earlier that night. She wanted this now, all of it, and he knew it.

"You're still blushing."

"What can I say? I'm a blusher."

"Yeah," he growled lowly, even as his eyes divulged a certain amount of wonder. It begat a marvellous contradiction in her: the sight of beautiful wonder both calmed her yet quickened her pulse, and this transformation—far from complete but sufficient enough—allowed her to carry on.

Rory slipped a hand under the tails of his shirt, drawing them apart, her fingers coasting happily over the heated skin of his torso.

Once the fabric had been nudged aside, her lips went almost immediately to his obliques where she dragged them against the enticing scent of his skin. She inhaled, the sound in harmony with his rush of breath. As she leaned further forward to brush her lips along his chest, his fingers set out as well, slipping further under the hem of her own shirt.

She felt his warm palm glide across her back to the point where she no longer felt the coolness of the room's temperature on that now-exposed skin, to the point where she embraced the heat of her cheeks because it was him who drew it out of her.

As their magnetism culminated in another kiss, Rory's hand found its way down his torso, delighting in a journey towards a buckle. A chuckle bubbled up from Jess's throat, which she felt on her lips, and Rory, eyes twinkling, broke the kiss and sat up slightly.

"Tickles," he said.

She shook her head with a teasing _No_ and reached for him again. He pulled her hand, instead, to the collar of his shirt and paused, his open mouth curled into a subtle wryness.

Smirking herself, Rory acquiesced and guided the unbuttoned shirt off of his one shoulder and then the other—from his position on his back he rolled this way, then that, to help her slide the shirt down his arms.

He wriggled his wrists from the cuffs of his shirt and then it was forgotten. He rolled off of it, rolling her also until she was pinned, delighted, beneath his broad expanse and daring gaze, and then, in a moment, a barrage of kisses.

As his hand drew upwards insistently along the flesh of her waist, the hem of her shirt rose with it. Her skin was greeted by the warmth of his torso, the pleasure of flesh on flesh.

His hand grasped through too many wrinkles of fabric. Rory crossed her arms in front of her and writhed out of her shirt. He helped. The fabric was lifted over her head and he pushed it away from them, off the edge of the bed. She reached behind herself to undo a clasp before he would press his torso to hers.

Like his solid frame, his kisses were hot and perhaps more insistent than she'd ever experienced. His tongue wasn't coy anymore.

"Oh," she cooed against his mouth. Rory was dizzied to note they were sharing the lead after all.

As her pulse continued its reckless hammering, her observant knuckles slid down the sides of his ribcage to his waist until her hands held him commandingly by the thick denim blockade of his waistband, pulling him tightly against her, although he was already tightly there.

She smiled, between kisses, as her fingers slid between the roughness of denim and his hot skin, feeling the undulation of his abdomen as they made their way to a button.

Just as her fingers found their destination, he sat back on his heels, effectively pulling away from her. She gasped with pleasure when she, instead, felt the button on her own jeans pop free. He'd beaten her to it. Seeing her widened, welcoming eyes, he grinned naughtily and pulled upon her zipper, his own out of her reach.

A delirious giggle escaped her. Raising her hips, she helped him slide her denim off and it, too, fell to the floor.

From where he knelt beside her, he slid a forearm beneath her back and eased her further onto the bed. She seized his shoulder and rolled towards him, just to feel his heat more closely. With her other hand, she reached between them for the touch of his skin, fingers once again slipping just inside his fly and urging him closer.

Then he was nearly upon her. The forearm, which he now leaned on, remained tucked beneath her waist. He pulled the satin straps from her shoulders and, while he solidly thrust his body against her side, he kissed her chest.

"Mmmm," she hummed.

"Yeah," he agreed, the word a mere dance of breath, as he painted her with kisses.

His right hand swept down the periphery of her barely clothed breast, a tingly trail, finally tugging the dislodged fabric loose from her tangle of limbs and tossing it aside. She offered her chest to him but his hand continued along the length of her side until his broad fingers reached her knee.

She had been quarter-turned towards him. With a solid but unrushed advance, he pushed her knee aside and Rory flat onto her back. Rory's fist sought and clung to the first shred of blanket it found, as she quavered, knowing what awaited her.

Tantalizing her, Jess's hand traced its way back up along the front of her thigh and slipped up through the leg of her panties, under the satin—not to touch her where she expected, but to hold the curve of her hipbone. "Jess!" she demanded, her equanimity frayed.

"My, aren't we eager!" he kidded in a breathless whisper, as his lips came down to knead a path along her stomach. He only gripped her hipbone tighter.

"What a tease," she moaned. His light laughter danced along her ribcage.

His wrist rotated at her hipbone, under the fabric, and unexpectedly his knuckle was gently petting her, his skin, slightly rough but none-the-less compassionate, meeting her delicate flesh at last.

"Mmmm," he rumbled, which affected her almost as much as his touch.

Almost.

For, just as she became accustomed to the way his fingers lightly strummed her—and just as his rumble had begun to command her attention—the course of events reminded her just how much his touch could affect her.

As his tongue found her navel, Jess strummed, his gently curved, experienced knuckles cycling over her as they could a coin, until a welcome finger straightened and it found its own path. Supple, slow, but insistent. Rory gasped. His rumble returned.

He slid, never leaving her, but the angle was wrong. He lifted his body above her and half-crawled closer on the mattress, one leg kneeling now just to the side of her hip—his posture and expression a ruling authority of lust which took her breath away. She was instantly aware of her throbbing tension as she realized her own point of no return and then willingly crossed over its threshold.

"Ohhh…"

His rate of respiration responded to her call. Any moment he would take her, and she would let him for it was what she wanted also.

Now on his knees beside her, he perched, pulling her last shred of fabric roughly to the side while his other hand played. He was witness to his fingers' playground, clearly desirous of it. His breathing was shallow and he was beautiful.

He employed a thumb now and, after a while, his eyes raked up along her body, coming to rest on hers in a gaze so intense and serious it made her dizzy with amazement. He was reading her, gauging the merits of his ministrations in her responses. And he was reading them right. She palmed her forehead for a moment before gripping the blanket once more.

The fabric finally an impedance they could no longer abide, he removed her panties and returned to her, more freely. She met his hand, pressing eagerly.

His free hand grasped her abdomen. She pulled it along her skin up over her chest to guide his fingertips to her tongue. His mouth opened as her tongue got his attention. He responded aggressively, his knuckles to the hilt, his thumb perfectly placed.

She gasped, writhing in his hand.

Finally, when she could stand it no longer, she placed her palm over his hand, holding him tightly against her, and whispered, "And you?" Jess blinked languidly. She reached for his belt buckle and he finally acquiesced.

As he stood up out of necessity, he licked his fingers, an unintentional seduction pulling some primal urge from deep within her. Rory rolled to the edge of the bed, following him, and her fingers wasted little time with the fly of his weathered blue jeans. Rory nudged the fabric off of his hips, and off of him, and the articles slowly slid to the floor.

He glistened, and she reached out for the taste of him, but barely satiated the craving for his silky skin.

"Stop," he said.

Dizzy, she asked, "Is something wrong?"

"No, I just need to hold it together. And the way you're going..."

"Oh! Sorry," she tittered nervously. "Then?"

"Yeah." His voice was as quiet as hers had been, somewhere between a statement and question.

"I'm waiting for you to make the first move."

But he paused. She sat up and reached for the box of condoms.

"Yeah?" he whispered.

"Oh yeah," she assured.

"Yeah," he agreed quietly, roughly, his nostrils flaring and his head slowly shaking as he dressed himself with the sheath she'd removed from the package with her buzzing fingers. The heat returned to his eyes.

He crawled back onto the bed and shifted down slightly along the length of her body, kissing her where it counted. She felt the heat of his breath and the nipping of his lips as he murmured something she couldn't comprehend, but in her mind she happily imagined the most tawdry of amorous comments.

Rolling her gently away onto her back and, with the flex of the muscles in his shoulders and some subtle negotiations—made only _slightly_ awkward by the incessant pull of gravity—he slipped his wrist underneath her shoulder, he nudged her with a knee, he held her torso at the side of her breast. Then he was above her, slipped into the embrace of her thighs.

"Slowly!" she gasped, perhaps startled by the immediacy. She reached down urgently, taking hold of him, slowing his body, which he obliged given no other choice.

Jess's eyelids drifted shut, reflecting hers, as she controlled his pace, her hand his guide. His skin was silky, beautiful, though mostly sheathed, and Rory gasped and shuddered at the new sensation, half-way, then more, inch-by-inch growing ever more acclimated, and Jess moaned. The sound waves traipsed across her skin, lifting all the follicles of her flesh.

"Don't move," she whispered near his ear, the change complete. She tilted her neck and caught sight of his bottom lip, firmly clamped in his teeth, as he nodded. A laboured breath curling against her neck was his only other response. In near-silence they stayed for some time, as she became accustomed to the feel of him, a startling moment, laden with more than she could ever explain later.

She kissed him.

And he pressed, desire personified, moving at last. Surprising, startling, but welcome.

With new movements, raw and natural and sudden, the floodgates opened. His hands on her body a tight, insistent leverage. She shivered under his intensity, or perhaps her own, kissing him still.

"Nnnn," he moaned senselessly against her mouth as his hand came beneath her to wrap more tightly around her shoulder.

"Ah! Hair! Hair!" she whimpered, as his forearm had now come to rest on her tangles.

"Shit! Sorry!" They scrambled a bit, his arm shooting out from beneath her, and she giggled at his sheepish glance, feeling a love for him anew.

The injustice soon passed. He was still there, she realized with a new gasp. She reached for the flesh of his rump and with a loving grind of her hips, assaulted him back, guiding him with her hands into a rhythmic oscillation she decided she liked very much.

Jess's appreciation of her movement was clear, in the sound of his voice and the features of his expressive face. It was all so beautiful and honest, she thought her heart might burst from her chest.

Unknowing how it would affect him, Rory hummed in tune with the vibration of her being. Her toes curled and pressed against his calf. It proved his undoing.

Suddenly Jess was wild with abandon, but for a moment more. When Jess cried out, so did Rory.

Then the only sound was of breath.

Several shuddering moments passed. He glided slower, sinuous. His hand gripped the back of her shoulder tightly. She wasn't sure which of them was shaking, maybe both. Rory moaned.

They lay there a moment, damply, as the ebb slowly released them, rendering them more weighty and earthbound. Rory stared at the ceiling, unseeing, her jaw slack with amazement, as the tide withdrew bit by bit in subtle throbs, until he pulled away slightly and the act was a beautiful memory.

He left her to bask in the circle of his arms—one still beneath her shoulder, the other tucked closely to her body—and of his forehead collapsed over her chest, his moist hair a cloud of softness caressing her collarbone. Leaving her to ponder the sensations of her body's ravage, the shakiness of his breath, and the poignancy of her emotions.

She gulped as Jess wordlessly looked up at her, his eyes raw, his features newly defenceless. One ragged breath escaped him as their gaze strengthened, telling her all she wanted to know: As they each returned to a more conscious state, he was feeling the same vulnerability she suddenly was.

In fact, she surmised as she regarded him closely, he looked positively morose.

"Are you comfortable? Am I killing your arm?"

"No. It's fine."

"I could move."

"Don't... Don't." He sighed and rested his head on her chest. "Stay."

She wanted to tell him that this was the textbook definition of a perfect moment. And it had been. Her statement would have been true, if she'd spoken it several moments earlier, before she'd seen the look in his eyes.

 _ **AN: Please, please review. I'd love some feedback, even if it's to tell me this scene sucked and it, in no way, would have happened like this. Criticism will help me improve. Was the chapter still too expository, as I fear it is? If so, how can I fix that? Thank you!**_

 _ **Fans of GG will, of course, notice that I took some lines directly from the show. But I like the subtle difference here.**_


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